"I'm the Guy Who Writes 'Dirty Sanchez'!" Writes the Guy Who Writes Dirty Sanchez

("He says he's got15 simple reasons he writes the column, yawns the irritable Sister of Sanchez,"the Sister of Sanchez yawned irritably.) 1. BECAUSE I CAME UP WITHTHIS ONE SNAPPY COMEBACK I came up with it like twoweeks after I started doing the column. Like a year ago, right after my band-BellBiv Devoe-delivered its third record. Because at the time I started doingthe column I actually thought someone would be so seized with hatred for thecolumn that she would quit her job and dedicate her life to determining whoI was and outing me. The winter came and went and nobody cared. Finally a guygot mad enough to search me out-he fucked over my brother and one of my bestfriends, and so I slagged his band, pretty harshly-and then he started e-mailinghis friends, and then suddenly it was "everybody in the music industryhas always known that Clyde Stubblefield from Hanoi Rockswrites Dirty Sanchez." Finally, some anonymousposter to an unofficial website for my band asked the question I'd been waitingfor: "R U DIRTY SANCHEZ?" In all caps and with Prince's grammar yet.How subtly menacing."No," I typedback. "Dirty Sanchez is a fictional character."That's a really annoyingClintonism, isn't it?Don't worry, Mr. Curious,my name will be right at the end of this article. Why write this if I didn'twant to finally take credit? I've had a blast writing this thing, what a reliefto finally stand up and say, Hello world, I'm Billy Ocean! 2. BECAUSE I'M A ROCK STAR Yes, Sasquatch. I'm nota critic, I don't work for a label. I'm a recording artist.Somebody right now is writinga pissy riposte to this for "The Mail," no doubt including the word"SoundScan"-such credibility! there's a capital letter rightin the middle of the word-along the lines of, "Well, hmmmph, JoeLally, I thought being a rock star involved selling a few records."Let me just quickly run you through the stats: number of e-mails today thatcould be synopsized as Dear Yngwie Malmsteen, Please Marry Me: 7. Numberof tattoos I've seen that were taken from illustrations on CD coversof my band: somewhere around 15. Number of times The New Yorkercompared me to Ezra Pound: once. Number of times my band's name was mentionedby Gillian Anderson on the E! network: once. (E! was coveringa party for the X-Files soundtrack, and when asked if she liked the music,she said yes, and named the first three bands on the CD in the order they appeared.) Rumors I've heard aboutme include, "Jack Klugman has three testicles," "JackKlugman is really the father of Uma Thurman's baby" and "JackKlugman is clearly a pole-smoker." That last one-actual quote fromthe Internet-is going on my business card someday. Number of times the nameof my band was mentioned by the character David Silver on 90210:3. He took Dylan's ex-girlfriend, gasp, to see us the night before herbig audition for the Ice Capades. "I've got front-row centerseats for Letch Patrol," David Silver said. And later: "I'vejust got to go inside and get the Letch Patrol tickets," he said, justbefore an unexpected dramatic encounter with Dylan: "Is it my fault LetchPatrol went on so late?" David Silver told the girl the next morning ashe escorted her-she was wearing sunglasses, pouting, and had her arms crossed-intothe skating rink. Having been tangentially involved in a Dylan McKay/David Silverbeef over this year's 90210 brunette alone validates my rock starcard. When I was a lad with aFernandes Strat knockoff for an "ax" (I do so love to callit an ax), I figured being a recording artist involved writing songs, recordingthem and playing them for people. How foolish! As it turns out, being a recordingartist involves hanging around with some of the least intriguing people on Earth.To whit: regional label reps, who begin every sentence by stating howlong they've been working for the company. "You know, I've been workingfor _______ for 17 years, and I must tell you, this risotto is really tasty."And wrinkly flacks, who were probably hotties in the early 80s, who workat some other label owned by the same conglomerate as your label, who lean acrossthe restaurant table so you can see their leathery boobs a-dangling, cooingrobotically, "Oh, T-Boz, I just love your band WishboneAsh, and when you sing, 'Finished with my woman 'cause she couldn't helpme with my mind,' oh, it just means so much to me." And then there are radiopeople and I have absolutely nothing bad to say about them, they're just fabulous,a breath of fresh air, a delight to converse with, and by the by, the add datefor our next single is July 20. And then there are peoplewho work at record stores who come along for the big pre-show meet and greet,who salute me by quoting my repertoire. "Don't stop believin'-hold on tothat feelin'!" one says. Another yells, "Jonah made his home in thatbig fish abdomen!" And how am I-Blackie Lawless-meant to respond?Yes, I wrote that. Yup, quite familiar with it, thanks. Rock on?If I didn't have Sanchez-and40 milligrams of fluoxetine daily-to get me through my week, I'd haveoffed myself by now. 3. BECAUSE I NEED THE BUCKS I'm not a real celebrity.Real celebrities are wealthy. My band-Rob Base & DJ E-Z Rock-hasshipped fewer than 400,000 units of our latest CD. That's a lot of money ifyou're Ani DiFranco, but you're not gonna get a dime from that if you'reon a major. We worked our asses off pushing the first two, and finally we recordeda single that stuck. It stayed in the top 10 at alternative rock radio-whatmy friend Gus likes to call "the New Wave Ghetto"-over Novemberand December, when radio stations freeze their playlists-if your single isn'tadded by Thanksgiving, it's done. So there we were; fourth quarter, holidayseason, touchdown! Right? So we thought. I bought my little brother a pair of$300 shoes for Christmas. A band less noble than myband-the Atlanta Rhythm Section-might boo-hoo that their label must'vefucked up most severely for the record to have not been certified gold by Jan.2. But we take the higher moral ground and believe we just happened to be verywell liked by music directors but, alas, not by consumers. Or, in the parlanceof the promo guys, "It didn't connect." 4. BECAUSE I'M A BETTERWRITER THAN ANYBODY WHO'S EVER WRITTEN ABOUT ME Excepting three writers.One of whom is Jessica Willis-whose very worst piece ever just happenedto be about my band, the Feelies. The other two I'm not going to name,because that way I can bump into anybody at a party and say, oh yeah, of courseit's you, absolutely-and the other one's your editor. Musicians always say, "Waaaah,so-and-so from Fucktooth only gave me one and a half stars-those critics!They're all wannabe musicians." Well, actually, they're all wannabewriters. Some of them do believe, in their gullible youth, that theyactually can encompass the vast and nebulous force of music in their prose.And sometimes when I've taken a particularly large amount of cocaine, I considermyself a viable presidential candidate. But I digress. If they're really goodwriters, they eventually go out into the world and write about actual stuff.Cameron Crowe, for example, of whom I'm a huge fan, paid the rent writingcriticism until he wrote Fast Times At Ridgemont High. But a 35-year-oldfreelancer banging out half-assed opinions to get a check-that's not a man ofletters, baby, that's a man of used CD stores. 5. BECAUSE IT'S EASY Punditry requires no substance,only direction, momentum and a loud voice. And if you're doing it about showbusiness, you don't even have to pick a side! It's simply like/dislike, andpast that what do you need? Adjectives? The thesaurus is just chock-fullof them! I don't even have to worry about the like/dislike part. As a generalpolicy, Sanchez never liked anything musical, and probably never will.Except Imogen Heap. And I believe the extent of Sanchez's Imogen-advocacywas "Imogen Heap! You my nigga!" I don't have to worry aboutissues of journalistic integrity either. I don't have any. I go online and prettymuch bite all my material off AP and MTV.com. If Sanchez panssomething he didn't listen to, he tells you so. If Sanchez makes grand pronouncementswithout doing jackshit for research, he's the first to admit it. It's show business. 6. BECAUSE I, TOO, AM ABLACK MAN ON THE INSIDE As it happens, I am nota flabby, bearded Mexican who speaks with the voice of George Sandersplaying Addison DeWitt in All About Eve. I'm honky to the marrow. Andif there's some kind of gasp-he's-no-Latino uproar over this article, well,I'll just change it from "Dirty Sanchez" to "Dumb Whitey."Churlish Sanchez mocks, anxious Whitey hankers, adjective name verb, same difference. It frightens me how quicklysome critics will still automatically reject a white artist who dipshis or her toe into hiphop, which is such a revolutionary genre thatthat's kind of like going back to the 1800s and excoriating non-Scotsmen forutilizing the steam engine. The party line of critics is that all American musicemanates from black America, that what is really a complex interweaving of seachanteys with drum ceremonies with Protestant hymns with a million other musicaltraditions can be reduced to a simple formula of good guy and bad guy who stolethe good guy's cool thing. That's a fine recipe for self-loathing, but reallyshabby history. On this tip, the positivereviews are the most depressing; if you're a skinny white guy who's biting alittle Slick Rick just like Snoop Dogg did, and making it soundgood, you're sure to read forced-laugh, cheek-turning, desexualizingwords like "dork" or "geek" in your most laudatory reviews.On the other hand, there have been several positive reviews of my band-Whodini-inwhich the critic boasted of being unable to determine my race without lookingat the publicity photo. Apparently that's a compliment. 7. BECAUSE I WANTED TO BEATTHE SHIT OUT OF A ROCK CRITIC, TOO But I had to serve my beatdownin effigy. I beat the living shit out of Sanchez, week after week, torturinghim, taking his money.Manson and Trickyand Wyclef and D-Dot-they all got their shots in this year. Theykicked, pummeled, punched, threatened. The more psychic damage I inflicted onSanchez, the more I liked the guy. 8. BECAUSE ADAM HEIMLICHACTUALLY BEGAN A REVIEW WITH THIS LINE: "Imagine, if you will,music that is beheld." His italics. I swear. 9. BECAUSE I LOVE ME SOMEFAT GIRLS! By "fat girl"I mean to include: thick-ankled, big-assed, big-nosed, flabby-titted, hairy-armed,jowly faced, whatever. I wanted to make it an effectively salacious catcall.Because all women think they're fat girls, or at least that they're ugly. Andthe fact is, all men are attracted to some very weird shit. Erin Franzman-formerNYPress receptionist, who knew that I wasMalcolm-Jamal Warnerthe whole time and played mind games with me mercilessly-once said, "Youknow, I'm glad you grind on hippies [I think she meant the Wookie], but what'sup with you making fun of lumpy women?" I told her I wasn't making funof them, that one of the few personality traits Sanchez and I share is a loveof lumpiness. That both the Wookie and the Lumpy Lass were meant to be sexydespite themselves. Have you heard the term "ghetto booty"? Have youseen the kind of lady the President likes to get down with? She said, "Uh-huh.Please hold."Say it loud: Fat Girl! FatGirl! Right on, Fat Girl, right on! 10. BECAUSE I'M A LIAR ANDPARANOIA IS BLISS TO ME Mere pot-smoking just won'tdo it anymore; I need a real disaster looming on the horizon, something career-threatening,something that'll just blow the whole house off its foundations. In retrospect,I think any musician skewered in the column had no trouble dismissing it-Sanchez'sdiscredibility was built-in. I was very drunk the other night and fell all overScott McCloud from Girls Against Boys apologizing for dissinghim. He was nonplused."But I said, 'Anyonewho can come out of a GVSB show humming a single tune can hump Sanchez's comelybeergut to climax,'" I wailed."And?" he said. 11. BECAUSE NOBODY ELSEQUESTIONS THE BEASTIE/NASTY COMPLEX As it happens, there isa professional connection between my band-Black Oak Arkansas-and theaforementioned parties. I know I'm putting somebody who went out of his wayto save my ass in the middle of an uncomfortable situation. I hope he understands.I had to go with my conscience.I've asked three peoplewho work at Nasty Little Man these two questions: "What exactlydoes Milarepa do? Where does the money go?" None of them could answer. It has been argued to meby people who know from both the Beasties and Nasty that, really, whythe fuck should they know jackshit about Milarepa's books? They're only publicists.But it bugs the shit out of me nonetheless. I'm sure that half the bands involveddid the Tibetan shows because they were fashionable, and why not? FreddieMercury didn't spend his time onstage at Live Aid contemplating worldhunger, but I bet some kid got a bowl of oatmeal out of it anyway.But it bugs the shit outof me nonetheless. As for the Beasties, whospent the first half of the decade as the admissions department of the coolschool and the last half with a bad case of Sting's Save The Rainforest Disease,well, I have to say I wouldn't have formed my band-E.S.G.-if it weren'tfor Licensed to Ill. Which is why it makes me so sad that their needto disavow their drunk years makes them do things as appalling as calling upthe Prodigy and asking them not to play a song they found offensive,and then turning around and shaking a finger at the Chinese government for suppressingBuddhism in Tibet. Okay, granted, the Chinese used tear gas, truncheons andwiretaps while the Beasties used an AT&T calling card. But why not justgo up onstage and say, "Hi, we're the Beastie Boys and we sure do findthat 'Smack My Bitch Up' song offensive"-countering offensive speech with righteous speech? Mr. Yauch, please checkyour wallet. I think that right behind that AT&T calling card, that licenseto ill-to be young, dumb, venal, human-might be just sitting there, still valid.Go save the world from the forces of darkness if you have to, but please: Forgiveyourself. 12. BECAUSE MY SHRINK TOLDME TO After four years on theroad and four years reading tossed-off opinions about myself in the local alternativeweekly of whatever town the bus stopped in, I was so depressed that I wouldbe on a beach in the South of France surrounded by half-nude French womenwith glorious thick black hair in their pits and peeking out of their bikini-strapsand still be unhappy. I took long walks through a lot of beautiful towns-Torino,Paris, San Francisco, Bordeaux, Barcelona-and didn't notice them at all. So I got a shrink, and Isaid to her: "I hate being in the Fabulous Stains. I hate livingthe life of a trucker; I signed up for the David Bowie package. I hatebeing hated by all the other white guys who hate their own whiteness and loveblack music like me. I hate being dependent on this band and feeling like I'mstuck with them on a train that won't stop. I want to say fuck this and go geta job."And my shrink said: "Sogo get a job?" 13. BECAUSE I LOVE TO SUCKRUSS SMITH'S COCK Russ named the column. Iwent down to 333 and pitched this vague idea about a column documenting theobsolescence of alternative rock and the rise of the squeaky-clean pecs-and-cheekbonespop that would blow it away-as my band, Kansas, has sung, like dust inthe wind. Russ said: "Do youknow what a dirty Sanchez is?"I said no. Strausbaughrolled his eyes, because I think Russ discussed the ins and outs of dirty Sanchezeswith everyone he met for a period of about six weeks. Russ proceeded to describea creative form of prison rape. He said, "You should call the column that.You can incorporate the name into your style-like, 'Professor Sanchez is tellingyou the truth, children...'"And-click click click inmy mind-there Sanchez was. 14. BECAUSE I REALLY MISSJ.R. TAYLOR'S "ACE OF CLUBS" That shit scared everybody-thebug-eyed, leering, redneck, Republican rock critic. What a gas! I hated himat the time, thinking I could make the world love one another by writing glowingpoetic tributes to En Vogue. On two occasions-one with a woman who'dhad a huge single, another with two members of a well-known all-female New Yorkband-I was told by female pop stars how creepy they found him. At the time Iwas freelancing for NYPress, so they thought I had some insight. Eachof them practically interrogated me about what J.R. Taylor was like inreal life. And I thought: This Taylor fella is really onto something.The difference: He meantit. I think. 15. BECAUSE YOUR GIRLFRIENDSTILL LOVES ME Looking for the byline?Sucker.